Under Cover of Darkness
by chocolatequeen
Summary: Pirates roam the waters surrounding the islands of the Kasterborous Constellation, but not all of them are what they seem. When Lady Rose Tyler rejoins her parents in the Gallifreyan colony, she meets two men: James McCrimmon, the first nobleman who doesn't bore her to tears, and the Doctor, a pirate who promises to keep her safe... from the pirates.
1. Chapter 1

AN: For a Tumblr prompt, Ten x Rose, Pirates AU and a secret relationship. Betaed by Veritascara.

"What do you mean, we're having a ball the night after next?"

Lady Rose Tyler looked from her father to her mother and back again, not bothering to hide her agitation. Her life had changed so much since her parents had been reunited three years previous. Jacqueline and Rose had been shipwrecked years ago and presumed dead. It had only been sheer chance that had led Lord Peter Tyler to the tavern on Powell Isle where Jackie and Rose worked tables. He'd recognised his wife immediately and reclaimed them as his family.

But Lord Tyler had been on his way to his new home as governor of the Kasterborous Constellation, as the western island chain was known. After some heated discussion between the elder Tylers, it had been agreed that Rose would be sent back to Gallifrey to go to finishing school, while Jackie went on with her husband.

"_My Rose doesn't need any finishing," Jackie had insisted hotly. "She's worth more than ten of your society ladies." _

"_Of course she is, Jacks—she's ours, after all," Pete had said, running his hand down his wife's arm. "But there'll be enough talk about the two of you finally coming back from the dead. Do you want to give them any other reason to gossip about her?"_

His argument swayed Jackie, and over Rose's protests, she'd been sent back to the Citadel to endure two years of school, two years of boring classes in how to comport herself as a lady of the realm. Every moment had chafed; she'd lived her own life in the Constellation, with no one directing her movements. At school, she had to fit a mould and answer to her instructors if she stepped out of bounds.

Each evening when the sun set, she'd marked another day off her calendar and anticipated finally being allowed to come home, allowed to be herself. So, to hear that the first order of business upon her arrival was a formal ball did not please her. "But I've only gotten here," she protested.

"You've just arrived, and that's why people want to meet you," Jackie said, and Rose recognised the fire in her eyes. There would be no arguing, even if the invitations had not already been sent out.

DWDWDWDWDW

An hour into the ball, Rose managed to dispatch her latest partner to the punch table during a break in the dancing and slip past the heavy curtains out onto the balcony. The fresh sea breeze was a welcome relief from the stuffy ballroom, filled with smoke from the candles and heavy colognes. Rose leaned on the balustrade and took a deep breath of the salty air. The sun had set nearly an hour before, but there was still light on the unending horizon, where the cerulean water blended into the deepening azure of the night sky. A few stars were already peeking out, and Rose's fingers itched for a paintbrush to capture the beauty.

"Well this is a bit awkward."

Rose spun toward the pleasant tenor voice, her hand flying automatically to her décolletage. A tall, slim man leaned against the wall, his hands casually tucked into the pockets of his dark superfine coat. The flickering light from the wall sconces reflected in his warm brown eyes, and the wry humour she saw there eased what little concern she'd felt.

He pushed off the wall with one shoulder and took a step toward her. "I thought the balcony would be empty, but I find it occupied by someone else looking to avoid company. Now, a polite man would turn around and leave you alone, but I've always been a bit rude, so I wonder if we could share."

Rose found herself returned the stranger's disarming smile. "As long as you promise not to dance with me," she said pertly. "My feet can't take any more bruising."

His rich laughter rolled over her, warming her from the inside. "It seems we are both lacking in manners, Lady Rose. Are these colonials too rough for you?"

"Oh no," she said, eager to not be misunderstood. "It's more that they are far more interested in meeting a lady than I am in being a lady."

Before her new friend could reply to that, the curtains were shoved aside and Lady Tyler joined them. "Rose! Oh, there you are. What on earth possessed you to disappear like that? At least you've met Lord McCrimmon; he's one of the men I wanted you to dance with tonight."

Rose and Lord McCrimmon shared an amused look. "I'm afraid Lady Rose has already made me promise—"

"To dance the two next with me," Rose interrupted, knowing what her mother's reaction would be if she knew what she'd really said.

Lady Tyler looked at the two of them, her brows knit together. "You'd better dance with her," she said, tapping her fan against Lord McCrimmon's chest. "Don't think I haven't noticed you two out here alone and unchaperoned. If Pete hadn't promised me you were a gentleman, I'd have something to say about that."

Lord McCrimmon raised his eyebrows and offered an arm to Rose. "It seems our next half hour is set for us, Lady Rose. I believe the musicians are returning to their places; shall we?"

Rose took his arm with a demure smile. "Of course, my lord."

He led her to the top of the dance, as befitted her status. They danced the first figure together in polite silence, but finally Lord McCrimmon spoke. "Have I offended you in some way, Lady Rose?"

"Were you trying to avoid meeting me earlier?"

He winced. "Ah. It does look like that, doesn't it? I promise, I didn't know your mother had chosen me as your next partner. I just needed an escape from the idle prattle, and took the break in dancing as my chance."

Rose relaxed a little. "I can understand that desire, my lord."

"James, please," he said, his fingers accidentally brushing against her wrist as they passed each other on the floor. "From your earlier words, I believe you are as tired of the forms of courtesy as I am." The intense look in his eyes stole the breath from Rose's lungs, so she simply nodded. "Thank you. And may I call you Rose?"

"You may."

Lord McCrimmon—_James,_ Rose corrected—smiled so broadly the corners of his eyes crinkled up. "Thank you. My neighbours would say I spend too much time with the lower classes, but whatever the reason, I can't be comfortable if I hide behind my title." He grimaced. "Which is just one more thing to dislike about these formal affairs."

Rose twirled around him, letting her skirts fan out to brush against his legs. "One more thing? That implies there are other things you find unpleasant about nights like tonight."

He raised his left shoulder in an elegant shrug. "Where's the fun in sitting around with a bunch of people who are more concerned with their own reputations than with actually doing anything of value?"

Something tugged at Rose, and she met James' gaze steadily, instead of keeping her eyes focused just over his shoulder as she had been taught. "Are you sure you're a nobleman, James?" she teased. "I'm certain the High Council would cast you out if they heard such a scandalous opinion. Why, reputation is everything! Or have you not heard, the sheer rumour of our greatness will be enough to end the war."

Fire glinted in James' eyes. "I have lived in the Constellation long enough to know the High Council knows nothing about what is actually happening in the Skarosian Wars," he said, and the rough note in his voice sent a shiver up Rose's spine. "If we are to win, it will be because good men, like your father, have chosen to stand up and fight."

The music crescendoed and then faded away, and the applause of those watching the dance pulled Rose and James from the world they had fallen into. A flush warmed Rose's cheeks, and she thought she saw a hint of red on the tips of James' ears.

"I hope my bold words did not offend you, Rose," he said quietly as he led her back to her mother.

"On the contrary," she said. "I told you I was tired of being treated like a lady. I want to be a part of what goes on here, not kept as some glass doll, too beautiful to be affected by the world."

James lifted her hand to his lips. "As I said earlier, Lady Rose, I am always ill at ease at these events. But dancing with you, talking with you tonight… this has made it bearable."

"Better with two?" Rose said softly, the brush of his lips and hint of promise in his eyes sending a flutter of excitement through her.

"Yes, it is."

The words tumbled from Rose's mouth even though she knew her teachers would be aghast at her boldness. "Perhaps we might reach an agreement, Lord McCrimmon?" she said, aware as he was that where others could hear, titles were necessary. "Maybe we might attend these… together?"

"As my lady wills," he said, and with a wink and a bow, he disappeared into the crowd.

DWDWDWDWDW

In his room several hours later, James' thoughts lingered on Rose as he stripped off his coat and laid it over the back of a chair. He had nearly refused the invitation from Lord Tyler, but his first mate had reminded him that if he didn't take part in society, his whole attempt at a disguise would work fall apart.

He grinned as he loosened his cravat and pulled the long piece of silk from around his neck. "An extra ration of rum for Jack the next time I see him," he said, dropping the cloth and untying his shirt. Lady Rose was nothing he would have expected of a lady, but everything he should have expected of this lady in particular, based on the few times he'd met her parents.

The tan breeches and white knee socks were peeled off and dropped unceremoniously on the floor. Dressed in only his drawers, James padded over to the wardrobe and pulled out the tight black trousers and black shirt he wore aboard ship.

Once he was dressed for the second part of his evening, James pulled the hidden lever that revealed the staircase behind his bed. As always, the air in the stairwell was damp with sea water, and by the time he reached the landing, a fine mist had dampened his shirt. He pushed his wet hair back, grabbed the mask that hung on a peg by the cave entrance, and tied it securely over his eyes before stepping out into the moonlight.

The water called to James, but Jack would not be back with the Tardis for a fortnight yet. This was perhaps the most crucial point of the disguise. If James disappeared from society every time the Tardis was seen in action, even the Gallifreyan Navy would be able to piece the truth together.

All of Jack's logic couldn't keep James from going into town most nights, dressed in his pirate disguise—and given the number of times his late night wanderings had garnered important intelligence, Jack didn't argue too loudly.

James had walked the path from his hidden cove up to the town enough times to do so blindfolded. Tonight, with the full moon shining down, he was surefooted and fast—so fast, in fact, that he almost didn't see the figure coming toward him.

He paused and slipped into the shadow of the rocks, watching a woman descend the cliffs. There was something familiar about the way she moved… then the moonlight caught her burnished blonde hair, and he cursed under his breath. _What is Lady Rose doing on the beach at 2:00 in the morning?_

When she was just even with his hiding spot, he stepped out of the shadows. "Good evening, Lady Rose," he said, carefully modulating his voice from his own cultured accent to the working class tones he used in his second life. "Someone should have told you the beach is dangerous after dark."

Rose froze for a moment, then turned slowly toward him. James drew in a quick breath. If she'd been lovely in her ballroom finery, she was stunning dressed in a simple frock, with her hair hanging loose about her face.

"I allowed others to dictate my every move for the last two years because I had no choice," she said, her voice soft and even. "But I promised myself that when I returned home, I would not let my movements be curtailed."

"Not even by the knowledge that pirates that sail these waters?"

She tilted her head back and laughed. "You think too highly of yourself if you think you can scare me. I lived on Powell Isle for most of my life, or didn't you know?"

James brushed over her intuitive awareness of his own profession. "The Constellation has changed since you left, Lady Rose. There are some who would not hesitate to kidnap a lady of your standing."

Rose bit her lip. "My father did warn me of one brigand… the Master?"

Years of pent-up anger boiled up inside James. "Koschei," he spat out. "Believe me when I say you would do well to never meet with him."

She looked up the beach toward her mansion high on the clifftop, then back at the water. "But still, I do not intend to let anyone frighten me away from my walks. These evenings are the only time I truly have to myself."

Her jaw was set, and despite being frustrated by her disregard for her own safety, James couldn't help but admire her courage. The answer came to him before he realised he was speaking. "If I cannot persuade you to stay indoors after dark, then I will just have to walk with you."

Rose smiled at him, her tongue peeking out of the corner of her mouth. "And does my dashing marauder have a name?"

"The Doctor, at your service."


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning while Rose enjoyed her tea and toast on her balcony, she thought about her conversations with James and the Doctor. Both men had alluded to a danger in the Constellation that the High Council was either unaware of, or pretended did not not exist.

She stared out at the sparkling aquamarine water and remembered her own voyage from Gallifrey. The sailors had been in a jovial mood for most of the crossing, but as they neared the Constellation, the evening celebrations on the deck had ceased. At the time, she had assumed they were eager to be home, but now she remembered the tense way the men had carried themselves and the collective sigh of relief when they made port.

Rose's cup hit the saucer with a clink. _All I have are vague references and a sixth sense, _she thought as she left her room._ I need answers._

Every servant she met in the halls bowed to her and called her Lady Rose. She smiled awkwardly in return and unconsciously picked up her pace so she would reach her father's study more quickly. Rose would probably never be used to the deference. She was just a tavern wench from Powell Island; why would anyone bow to her?

The study door was open, and Lord Tyler was thankfully alone. "May I ask you a few questions, Papa?"

He leaned back in his chair, a wide smile on his face. "Of course, Rose." His eyebrows rose when she shut the door behind her, but he waited until she was seated to speak. "Is there something serious you wanted to discuss?"

"Yes, I believe so." Rose's fingers twisted in the fabric of her gown. This had seemed like a good idea in her room, but now that she was here, she could only remember everything she'd been told at school about well-bred ladies not being interested in politics or war.

"You can say anything to me, Rose," he said softly after a long moment.

The open, accepting look on his face gave her the courage to speak. "I wondered… I've heard some things…" She swallowed and then spat the whole question out in one breath. "What is the true state of the Skarosian War?"

His face darkened. "I need not ask where you hear of that, though I may need to speak with Lord McCrimmon about what is appropriate to discuss with a lady."

Rose's heart sank. He wouldn't answer then. Still, she wouldn't let him get upset with James. "Don't blame him, please. I told him I was tired of all the expectations placed on me, that I wanted to talk about things that matter."

Here father tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling for a moment, while Rose sat fidgeting. "Your mother is determined that you will have the life she couldn't give you."

Rose stared at him, thrown off by the non sequitur.

He continued. "In the last two years, she has placed every hope on you being a lady of standing, accepted by society." He finally looked at her, and his blue eyes pinned her to her chair. "That is why you will never tell her what I am about to tell you, never let on in public that you know these things. You may discuss them with Lord McCrimmon if you wish, but no one else. Do you understand, Rose?"

Rose's heart was in her throat. "Yes, Papa."

Her father stood and beckoned for her to follow him over to a map on the wall. "The High Council would have you believe Gallifrey holds all this land," he said, making a sweeping gesture across the Constellation. "That is technically accurate, but what they refuse to admit is that the Daleks have a blockade here." He pointed to a line not far from Arcadia, where the Governor's mansion was. "The blockade prevents us from getting supplies to the people or sailors on the other side. So, effectively, although our colonial governments are still intact, that area is in Dalek hands."

Rose stared at the map. This was what James had meant when he said things were far worse than the Council let on. "Isn't there a way to get past the blockade?"

He sighed. "The Daleks are so brutal to the ships they capture, all the privateers are too scared to run the blockade. All but one, that is. It is only thanks to the Doctor that we have any contact with the rest of the Constellation at all."

"The Doctor?" Rose repeated, trying to keep her voice steady. "He's a blockade runner? I thought… well, I'd heard he was a pirate."

Her father's laughter was a dry, unamused sound. "He has a rather… unorthodox way of getting the supplies he takes across the blockade. Despite the war, some of the nobles on this side of the line live indolent, indulgent lives. If the Doctor hears of someone he feels has an overabundance of food, he sneaks onto their plantation and raids the stores. He's only taking the excess and giving it to those with greater need, but those wealthy plantation owners have convinced the Navy to declare him a pirate."

Rose nodded slowly. "You don't agree?"

He snorted. "The Doctor is the sole person standing between us and defeat to Skaro. I only hope one day he gets the credit he deserves."

She traced the blockade line on the map, thinking about the man she'd met last night. She'd known, somehow, that he was a good man… but she'd had no idea.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her father's eyebrow raise in question, and she dropped her hand and turned away from the map. "But what about the other pirates? You mentioned the Master before."

He gestured at the chairs, and they sat back down. "The Master is hard to explain. He will attack the Daleks at times, but it always seems like a taunt, a game to see how much chaos he can cause. And he has also raided merchant ships arriving and leaving the Constellation. He seems to strike wherever the mood hits, without much of a pattern.

"The only consistent thing is his interest in the Doctor. Three times, a Navy ship has spotted the two dancing around each other on the open sea."

"Thank you, Father," Rose said. "Thank you for telling me, for treating me like I have a brain."

They both stood, and he surprised her by pulling her into a hug. "You're my daughter, Rose. I want you to be happy. If knowing the truth about our situation is what it takes…" He pulled back and shrugged. "Well, it wasn't what I expected you to ask, but I'm glad I had the answers."

DWDWDWDW

James' body buzzed with anticipation as he changed into his nighttime apparel. He knew he should hope Lady Rose would do the sensible thing and stay in bed, but he selfishly wanted to see her again… although he steadfastly refused to examine the motivations behind that desire.

But when he slipped around the cliff face and saw her familiar profile at the top of the cliff, he knew he couldn't lie to himself any longer. He was completely smitten with the delightfully unorthodox Lady Rose Tyler.

"I wondered if you would have thought better of this," he said when he reached her.

She smiled, and the impish look in her eyes drew James in. "I told you, Doctor, I will go where I want to go."

Rose began walking, and James fell into step beside her. She took his arm, and the polite gesture reminded him of the strange picture they must make—Rose, obviously a lady even in her simple gown, and him, clearly a pirate. "We should walk on the beach where no one can see us," he said, glancing up and down the path.

"Are you ashamed to be seen with me, Doctor?"

"No!" he exclaimed, then rolled his eyes when she giggled. "Which you knew very well. Come on, let's get out of sight before someone wonders what Lady Rose is doing up so late and calls for the watch to arrest me. "

He offered her his hand to steady herself as they climbed back down to the sandy beach. She didn't let go when they reached even ground, and he squeezed gently, enjoying the feeling of her hand in his.

The tide was out, and James led Rose through the soft sand to firmer ground nearer the water's edge. They both drew in a deep breath of the fresh salt air, and the hint of Rose's floral perfume added an edge of awareness to James' already heightened senses.

"My father likes you," she said as they started walking again.

"Your father doesn't know me," he countered.

She gave him a sidelong look which he fancied held a trace of exasperated amusement. "The Doctor: the blockade runner who is the only link Gallifrey has to the islands past the Dalek ships. I think he knows enough to have an informed opinion."

"There is so much more to the story than that, Lady Rose," James said. "And before you ask—no , I won't tell you. The story of how I came to put on this mask is not one I care to think about."

James was kicking himself for the abrupt words before they were even out of his mouth. _That's not the way to woo a lady, Jamie._

But Lady Rose didn't drop his hand or insist he lead her back to the path. Instead, after a few minutes of silence, she said, "Why do you call me Lady Rose? I wouldn't think pirates would care about the forms of courtesy."

James could hear waves crashing against the rocks ahead as he pondered Rose's question. Why did he use her title, when he didn't as himself? "I suppose it's because you haven't given me permission to drop it."

Rose held up her skirt a few inches while they walked around a long piece of seaweed that had been left behind by the tide. "Then please, just call me Rose—or I shall be forced to call you Lord Doctor."

"Oh no, never that!" James said with exaggerated horror. "If you're going to give me a title, I insist upon a knighthood. Sir Doctor of Tardis."

"Then I want to be knighted, too! I'll be… Dame Rose, of the Powell Isle."

They laughed together at their silliness, then Rose asked, "Tardis? S'that the name of your ship, then?"

It was the first time she'd let her natural accent slip past the upper class tones she'd probably learned to mimic in the Citadel, and James felt a rush of pride that she trusted him enough to let the facade slip.

He nodded. "The best ship in the constellation. Faster than the Daleks, and certainly faster than the Gallifreyan Navy."

"Tell me about her."

James slowed and turned toward the water, taking in the way the starlight reflected on the waves in a constantly changing light show. He always missed his ship on nights like this, but somehow, telling Rose about the Tardis made the ache a little lighter.

"She's not much to look at from the outside, as far as space goes, but looks are deceptive. We've got room for a full crew, and supplies, and plunder besides. She just keeps going and going once you get aboard—the running joke is that she's bigger on the inside."

Rose laughed, as he'd hoped she would.

"She's a beauty though. Sweet lines, and three large sails in the bluest blue you can imagine."

"Why blue?"

James hesitated, but Rose shifted a little closer to him, and he sensed her genuine interest. "Blue was the main colour on my family crest," he said quietly.

He held his breath, waiting to see if she'd jump on the hint that he was a noble. Instead, she picked up on something else. "Was?"

Memories swamped James, memories of childhood on Cadon, of laughing and playing with his cousins and Koschei. "Gone now," he said tersely. "Our island was captures by the Daleks in the early days of the Skarosian War. They burned down my home—they burned most of the island, really."

Rose squeezed his hand and he took a deep breath and continued. "Koschei and I were the only ones to escape. We both swore vengeance, but over the years, he's become… twisted."

"Your whole family… and then you lost your best friend too?"

James' chest ached. "I'm all alone," he said.

Rose tugged on his hand until he turned to face her. "Not anymore, you're not," she said firmly. "Better with two, yeah?"

James looked down at the amazing, compassionate woman beside him and realised he didn't stand a chance. Someday, he would fall in love with Rose Tyler.

"Yeah, better with two," he agreed hoarsely and squeezed her hand.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN**: Okay, so yes it's been 4.5 months since I updated. However, I doubled the length of the fic with this chapter, so that has to count for something, right?

**Summary**: Life gets confusing when you think you're falling in love with two people. It's even more confusing when you're courting one person _as_ two people. Or, James and Rose start to figure out their relationship.

After making sure Rose made it safely home to the governor's mansion, James slipped through the back streets toward the seedier part of the town. As he drew closer to the docks, the quiet stillness gave way to the raucous noise of sailors and pirates enjoying the rum and the women.

The doors of The Wolf and Storm burst open just before James reached it. A brawny sailor stumbled out into the street, then tripped and collapsed in front of James. A ginger woman stood in the doorway, her hands on her hips. "And if your hands wander again, Sunshine, you can find someplace else to get your rum."

James watched the unfortunate would-be assailant until his greasy hair disappeared into the darkness, then he smiled at Donna. "Fighting off the suitors again, Donna?"

"Oi! When a foul smelling sailor tries to put his hands on my—and I quote—'treasure chest,' he gets a quick escort out into the street."

"Absolutely." James nodded solemnly. "Wait for one who has a better line, at least."

Donna rolled her eyes. "Oh, go sit down, Shark Bait," she grumbled before disappearing into the kitchen.

James took a seat in the shadows at the back of the tavern and tipped his head back against the wall, giving the appearance that he wasn't paying attention to his surroundings. His eyes closed to narrow slits, he watched the comings and goings for a few minutes, and then the tavern owner walked into his line of sight.

Wilf set two glasses down on the table and took the chair opposite from James. When he reached for his own glass, he dropped a folded piece of paper, which James picked up when he picked up his glass.

"Always the best rum, Wilf," James said after taking a large swallow. "How do you do it?"

Wilf grinned. "Now, I can't tell you that," he chided. "The other tavern owners might hear and try to cut a better deal with my source."

"I guarantee you, none of the other tavern owners have a chance with your source."

The two men grinned at each other. James provided Wilf with the rum, in thanks for the kindness he'd shown when James had arrived on Arcadia, still wracked with guilt and grief and set on a self-destructive course. In return for the rum, and because he was just a good man, Wilf was his liaison with Jack while he was away from the ship.

James always intended to slip in and out of the tavern, but Wilf always managed to keep him talking for at least half an hour. Tonight, it was an hour and three more glasses of rum before he convinced the old man he needed to leave.

"I should get home before dawn. Thank you, Wilf, as always, for your help."

On the way out, he dropped some coins on the counter and winked at Donna. "Until next time, me beauty." Her outraged cry followed him through the doors.

The streets had emptied while he'd been talking to Wilf, the sailors all either passed out drunk or in bed. Unlike most people, the solitude did not make James feel more secure—there was anonymity in a crowd that you couldn't find walking alone down and empty street.

He hurried away from the docks and then down onto the beach. A cold wind whipped off the water, piercing through the wool coat James wore. He shivered and lengthened his stride, wanting to reach the cave entrance and shelter as quickly as possible.

Once he was warm and dry back in his room, he took the note from Jack and sat down in his chair by the fire. He read it quickly, translating the code as he went. An odd, hollow feeling settled in his gut when he took in the message—the Tardis was on her way back to Arcadia and would pick her captain up in a week.

He wadded it up and tossed it into the fire, watching as the flames licked at the edges of the paper until it caught and was consumed. He'd been waiting for this message for weeks—just tonight he'd felt the tug of homesickness to be back on his ship. So why wasn't he excited?

James let his head fall against the back of the chair. He knew why. Rose Tyler made staying on Arcadia seem like the best idea in the world. He shook his head and got into bed. Two days with the girl, and he was already moping because he had to leave her behind.

_You have a duty,_ he reminded himself sternly. _The people on the other side of the blockade count on you. _

Still, James couldn't deny he was glad when he awoke early the next morning to the sound of heavy rain beating at his window. Jack would have to wait for the storm ran its course. Guiltily, he hoped the bad weather would stay a while.

oOoOoOoOo

Rose stared out at the storm. The wind picked the waves up and brought them crashing down onto the beach in a spray of foam and mist. There was a beautiful ferocity to it that she had been trying to capture on canvas for a week. A series of large swells hit the rocks below, one after the other. Even at this distance, she could see the sea spray scattering in the wind.

Having lived in the Constellation her whole life, Rose knew how to weather a squall. Latch the doors and windows, close the shutters, stay indoors, and above all, stay away from the water. Storms were as dangerous as they were beautiful, and walking at the water's edge during one was just asking to be swept away.

But a week of storms had meant a week without her evening walks with the Doctor. They'd only met twice, but something about the pirate drew Rose in. She'd certainly been moved by the story of his past, but anyone with a heart would have sympathised with him.

The connection she felt with him ran deeper than sympathy. The Doctor… treated her like an intelligent adult, rather than a decoration to be admired. Outside of her father, the only other man who respected her as much was Lord James McCrimmon.

A smile crossed Rose's face, and she turned away from the window. Her parents were throwing a small dinner party that evening, and James was on the guest list. They hadn't met since her welcome ball, and she was looking forward to seeing him again.

"Sally," she called, "I think it's time I got ready for this evening."

oOoOoOoOo

Rose tried to not be obvious as she looked at the clock for the fifth time, wondering where Lord McCrimmon was. The dinner party had started almost thirty minutes ago, and at any moment, her mother would invite them all into the dining room.

Still, it would be rude not to attend to the conversation, and in truth, Mrs. Chesterton's travel stories would have captivated her if she didn't have one eye on the door, hoping James would appear.

The door opened and James rushed in just as Lady Tyler rose to move them into the dining room. "I apologise, Lady Tyler," he said contritely. "The weather made it more difficult to get here than I had anticipated."

"You're forgiven of course, Lord McCrimmon," Rose's mum said. "At least, you will be if you lead Rose into the dining room, following Lord Tyler and myself."

James sketched a half-bow. "It would be my pleasure, my lady." He walked over to Rose as Barbara joined her husband on the other side of the room.

Rose tried to think of a topic of conversation while the footmen laid out the soup course, but James was the first to speak. "What do you think of our Arcadian storms?"

"You forget, Lord McCrimmon, that I grew up in the Constellation. Squalls are not likely to throw me." She took a few sips of her soup, then rested her spoon against the lip of the bowl. "This one has been beautiful, though. I've been trying to paint it, but I just can't capture the wild movement of the waves."

"You haven't felt closed in, then?" he asked.

She sighed. "Well, yes. I had just started to form a habit of taking an evening stroll, and I haven't been able to go out for a week. Much as I would like to paint the storm tomorrow, I confess that I would gladly give up the opportunity, if it meant I could enjoy my time out of doors again."

Ian Chesterton cut in from across the table. "I hope you don't walk alone, Lady Rose. Arcadia is beautiful, but it isn't entirely safe."

Rose smiled. "I assure you, Mr. Chesterton, I am well-protected."

"Are you sure, Lady Rose?" James asked. "There are pirates roaming the waters of the Constellation, after all. A beach after dark isn't the safest place to be."

Rose looked at James. The words were concerned, but there was a note of challenge in his voice, like he was daring her to do something.

"I promise you, Lord McCrimmon, I am as safe on that beach after dark as I am sitting at this dinner table. Which is to say, I might choke on a piece of bread or become ill from something in the food, but that wouldn't stop me from eating."

The footmen came back out and James sat back so they could take his bowl. Rose saw a glint in his eyes, like he'd just given her a test and she'd passed with flying colours.

Brushing off the odd notion, Rose looked at Mrs. Chesterton. "Have you and your husband lived on Arcadia long, Mrs. Chesterton? I think I hear a trace of the Citadel still in your accent."

Mrs. Chesterton laughed. "Ian and I have been on Arcadia for ten years now, Lady Rose. We travel back to Gallifrey more often than most in the Constellation, though—you have a keen ear."

Rose waited until the footmen were done serving the fruit course, then said, "When you learn a new accent, you become attuned to the sounds of it."

Her dinner companion smiled, and Rose quickly diverted the conversation before anyone could ask her about her life before her father had found them. "So, I now know how long the Chestertons have lived here. What about the rest of you?"

The blonde woman seated on James' other side leaned forward slightly to smile at her. "Sir Alistair and I have been here for eight years, Lady Rose. We moved shortly after he retired from the Gallifreyan military."

James shifted in his seat and took a bite of mango. Rose realised her question had made him uncomfortable, so she turned her own attention to her food, not wanting to pressure him. It was a surprise, therefore, when he spoke up anyway.

"With the exception of my schooling, which of course I did in the Citadel, I've lived in the Constellation all my life," he said quietly. "Our family estate was here, on Cadon."

From the way everyone else sucked in a breath, Rose gathered that meant something. She looked around at them, a frown on her face.

Beneath the tablecloth, James wrapped his hand around hers. "Cadon was taken in the early part of the war," he explained. "The Daleks take a scorched earth approach to most conquests; they started massive fires around the island that killed more people than the actual battle. I escaped and came here. That was seven years ago."

Rose squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry, James," she said, not caring a whit if the rest of the party heard her familiar use of his given name.

She allowed silence to hang over the party for another moment, then smiled brightly. "Sir Alistair, I'm certain you could entertain us with stories from your long military career."

James' quiet exhalation and gentle squeeze of her hand was all the thanks Rose needed. She looked around the table as Sir Alistair revealed himself to be a surprisingly good storyteller, despite his no-nonsense demeanour. At the other end of the table, the speculative look on her mother's face caught her eye, and Rose quickly looked down at her plate to hide the blush she knew was spreading over her cheeks.

oOoOoOoOo

The storms finally cleared two days later, and James practically vibrated with excitement as he got ready to see Rose that evening. Her compassion and quiet support at the dinner party had conquered the rest of his heart, and judging by her comment about missing her late night walks, she at least felt something for him.

The half moon and stars provided enough light for the path to the top of the cliff. Rose met him halfway down and took his hand willingly.

"How have you been keeping yourself busy when you've been cooped up inside?" he asked as they picked their way carefully back down to the beach.

"A little reading and practicing piano—I need all the practice I can get—but mostly painting. I spent every afternoon trying to replicate the waves and the way the wind caught the water up. It was a waste of canvas, I'm afraid."

"Art is never a waste," he disagreed quietly. "Even if you couldn't quite capture the way the light shines through the water, or how the sea foam dances in the air, you spent time looking at beauty and thinking about it, and that is not a waste at all."

Even in the faint light, he could see Rose's cheeks flushed pink. "Thank you, Doctor."

They reached a small stream spilling out into the ocean and were forced to let go of each other's hands long enough to jump over it. To James' delight, Rose took his again as soon as he followed her to the other side.

He tugged her closer to the water's edge. "Let's just stand here in the moonlight and watch the water," he suggested.

Rose hummed her agreement, and in a moment of boldness, James let go of her hand and wrapped his arm around her waist instead. He held his breath, but Rose didn't pull away and chastise him for his familiarity, or demand that he take her home. If anything, she leaned into the embrace.

Tonight, the individual stars reflected off the water like diamonds sparkling on indigo silk. The waves lapped at the shore, their rhythmic splash and swoosh the only sound in the cove.

It was Rose who broke the silence. "What about you? What does a pirate do when a storm hits?"

James chuckled. "Heave to and ride it out belowdecks." He glanced down at Rose. "The storms are actually the reason I'm still here," he told her. "My first mate sent word the night before the first one hit that they were coming to get me."

"You're leaving soon, then?"

"As soon as they get here. I don't know how long that will take, but less than a week, I expect."

Rose shivered. "The wind is biting tonight."

"We should start back," James said regretfully. When he stepped away from Rose, she wrapped her arms around herself. "Here," he told her, taking his coat off and draping it over her shoulders.

She smiled her thanks and slipped her arms through the sleeves. "Next time, I'll remember to bring a coat of my own."

They leapt back over the stream and then joined hands out of habit. "You've put me in a quandary, Doctor."

James blinked. "How is that, Rose?"

She kept her gaze fixed on the path ahead of them. "All week, I resented the storms because they kept me from our walks, but now you tell me those same storms are the only reason you're still here."

Every moment he spent with Rose Tyler just made him more besotted by her. He truly wanted to court her, he realised, but he couldn't do that as the Doctor—no matter what her father thought about his brand of piracy, there was still no way Lord Tyler would allow his only child to marry a pirate.

James needed to know if Rose felt the same connection with him when he was himself as she did with the Doctor. "Surely you couldn't have missed me that much," he teased. "I heard you were quite friendly with Lord McCrimmon the other night."

Rose's step faltered for a moment, and the Doctor's arm kept her from falling. "All right there?" he asked.

"Yeah… I just caught my shoe on a rock," she lied.

What was the Doctor doing, asking about James? "Do you have spies in my house, Doctor?" she asked, eager to buy herself time.

Her mother hadn't stopped dropping hints about how well matched she and James were. It was an awkward enough conversation to have with her mum, but the Doctor bringing it up…

"Oh, I have my ways, Lady Rose," he said loftily.

Rose laughed, and hoped the Doctor didn't know her well enough to know it was fake. "Well, I'm not sure what your spy told you, but Lord McCrimmon is simply an acquaintance. He's a friend of my father's that I've been paired with a few times, due to our similar ages and unmarried status."

The Doctor's hand went limp in hers. "I see." His voice was flat, devoid of all the warmth and teasing she was accustomed to.

Shaken by the change of atmosphere, Rose needed words to fill the awkward silence. She grabbed for the first conversation topic she could think of.

"The stars are so beautiful tonight," she rambled. "Do you know the names of any of the constellations? I'm afraid I only know the Bad Wolf and the Lonely Wanderer." The Doctor remained silent, and she rambled faster. "The night sky is different in Gallifrey than it is here. I used to look up and feel so lost. Not only was I surrounded by unfamiliar things during the day, I couldn't even find comfort in my old friends at night."

"Gallifrey is in the northern hemisphere. We're in the southern hemisphere here."

"Yeah, I finally asked one of my instructors who had travelled more than the others. I did come to enjoy the northern sky and the new constellations, but it never felt like home."

"Speaking of home," the Doctor said, "here is the path back to the top of the cliff."

He pulled his hand away from hers, and Rose looked at him uncertainly. "Will I see you tomorrow?"

Shadows cast over his face by the cliff kept Rose from seeing his expression, but his voice was stiff and formal. "I'm afraid I can't promise that. My ship could come for me any day now."

Rose nodded slowly. "Very well. Then I suppose this is goodbye for now, Doctor. Please stay safe." She took his coat off and handed it back to him, then made her way up the cliff.

Later, alone in her room, she puzzled over his behaviour. The only explanation she could think of was that he wanted to put distance between them before he left. It was logical, but it still sent a pang through her heart. She'd enjoyed being with someone who truly talked to her.

_Well, I'll see James at the Chestertons' ball in a few days. Until then, I'll just have to be content with the boring teatime conversation Mum likes._

oOoOoOoOo

After the way Rose had denied even friendship with him, James had wished the Tardis would arrive soon so he could leave Arcadia before the Chesterton ball. But his wishes were not heard; another series of storms hit the next day, not abating until the day before the ball.

He grudgingly allowed Robert to dress him in formal wear that evening. The cravat and superfine coat had never seemed more constrictive, and he was more ready than ever to leave society behind for the freedom of the Tardis.

In the carriage, James resolved to ignore Lady Rose. She wouldn't miss his attentions, and if he didn't engage her in conversation, he wouldn't leave himself open to being hurt again.

That plan was blown out of the water the moment he stepped into the ballroom. He scanned the room from the stairs leading down to the floor, and his gaze landed almost immediately on Rose, as if she were his true north and he would always find her.

Despite James' best intentions to remain unaffected by her, Rose took his breath away. Most of the ladies wore muted shades of pink and blue, but Rose was resplendent in a deep rose coloured gown. The satin shimmered in the candlelit room, the light shifting as she moved through the crowd.

With a start, he realised she was walking toward him. Careful not to meet her eye, he looked away from her casually and walked in the opposite direction, pretending someone had beckoned to him.

He managed to avoid Rose for the next hour, using that innate awareness of her presence to slip away from her when she got too close.

He could not avoid Lady Tyler, however, and the governor's wife caught him at the refreshment table. "You haven't danced much," she observed.

James took a cup of punch and handed it to her. "I've been busy catching up with some people."

Lady Tyler took a sip of the punch and led him a few steps away from the table. "I would like to see you dance with Rose before the night is out."

Her bluntness would usually be welcome in comparison to the polite dancing around issues that most of society did. Tonight however, he wished she were not quite so forthright.

_But you love that about Rose, and she had to get it from somewhere._

"I'm not planning to stay much longer," James said. "I'm sure she's spoken for in the next two dances."

"That's where you're wrong. I happen to know she has the next dance available, and it'll be starting in just a few minutes. I'll take that cup from you; she's over there, talking to Mrs. Chesterton."

James knew when he'd been outmanoeuvred. He handed his cup to Rose's mum with a slight bow, then worked his way over to where he already knew Rose was standing.

"Lord McCrimmon!" Mrs. Chesterton said. "I hadn't realised you'd made it—you haven't danced a single dance."

He managed a smile that he thought might look sincere. "Yes, I know. But I'm here to rectify that, if Lady Rose would give me the pleasure of dancing the two next with me?" James held out his hand, palm up.

Rose's eyes searched his, and he realised that she suspected he'd been avoiding her. Either his smile fooled her, or she knew there was no polite way to refuse, for she placed her hand in his and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor.

When the first strains of music began, James wanted to curse. It couldn't be any of the formal dances that would keep Rose at a slight distance. No, it had to be a waltz, which demanded he hold her close.

James held Rose with stiff arms, keeping her body the formal distance from his. After a turn around the dance floor, she said his name quietly.

"Yes, Lady Rose?" he answered.

"I thought we agreed to be allies at these events," she said, and he could hear a faint hint of hurt in her voice. "Better with two, remember?"

Oh, he remembered very well. He remembered her saying those words to him twice, once as James, and once as the Doctor.

The memory sparked a sudden revelation. He was, for all intents and purposes, courting Rose as two different men. In that situation, how could he expect her to tell the Doctor about her close friendship with Lord McCrimmon?

James relaxed the dance pose and smiled down at her. "I'm sorry, Rose. I had something on my mind, but you just reminded me that it doesn't matter as much as I thought it did." He pulled her just the tiniest bit closer and moved them across the floor with a lighter heart than he'd had all week.

oOoOoOoOo

Rose didn't know why James' mood suddenly shifted, but she wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. The twinkle was back in his eye, and the hand that had barely been touching her waist now held her firmly.

She allowed the hand on his shoulder to slowly shift, until her fingers were stroking the short hairs on the back of his neck. She felt James shiver at the touch and pull her closer.

"The Chestertons have a beautiful garden, Rose. Have you seen it?"

Rose looked up at him, wondering if he was asking what it sounded like he was, and her breath caught in her throat when she saw the promise in his eyes. "I haven't," she said.

When they reached the doors leading outside, he gracefully spun them off the dance floor, then took her hand and pulled her out into the cool evening.

The rich aroma of damp earth permeated the air. Rose breathed deeply, then hummed her approval. "There's something so real about the smells of nature," she said. "The earthiness of land after a rain, the salty tang in the air when you walk along the water…"

James led her down a garden path until they were surrounded by a bed of flowers. The moonlight was bright enough to hint at the riotous colours, and Rose bent over to stroke one of the velvety petals.

"Arkytior," he told her. "It's an old Gallifreyan flower you won't find in many places in the Constellation, because it generally requires a milder climate. But, if you're patient enough…"

Rose could place the almost familiar scene now. "Arkytior is the old Gallifreyan rose."

"Yes, it is."

The soft moonlight cast a silver glow over Rose's fair features. James found himself wishing he could just stand there looking at her for the rest of his life, and that was the thought that reminded him that he needed to tell her he was leaving.

"I need to tell you something, Rose," he said.

Rose tilted her head and reached for his hand again. "You can tell me anything, James."

He rubbed at the back of his neck. "Well, I'm afraid our 'better with two' partnership will have to take a hiatus. I have business I need to attend to back in Gallifrey, and I won't return home for at least a few months, if not longer."

A lump lodged in his throat when he saw the surprise and dismay on her face, and he looked for something—anything—that might make her smile again. Faint strains of music drifted out into the garden through the open ballroom doors, and he held out his hand.

"Dance with me, Rose?"

This time, away from all the prying eyes, James consigned propriety to the devil and pulled Rose close. His heart raced when she nestled her head against his chest without any encouragement from him.

Instead of being clasped properly, their fingers laced together. The feeling of Rose's hand in his felt just as right as it had the first time he'd taken it, and he was able to forget the hollow ache in his stomach that reminded him of how fleeting this moment was.

"I'll miss you while I'm gone," he whispered into her hair. "I'll look up at the stars at night and remember dancing under them with you."

"They don't have the same stars in Gallifrey," she said, her voice muffled.

"Ah. Yes. I was recently reminded of that." James fumbled for something to say that wouldn't give away that he would actually still be in the Constellation. "But they don't need to look the same to stir up memories, do they?"

"I suppose that's true."

Rose pulled back just a little, but before he could protest, the hand that had been wrapped around his back glided over his chest to rest behind his neck. When her fingers started playing with the ends of his hair, he released an involuntary sigh.

A pleased look crossed her face in the blink of an eye, and James realised she knew exactly what she was doing to him. He raised an eyebrow, then pulled her a little closer and began tracing delicate patterns up and down her back.

The feeling of Rose shivering in his arms was too much for James' self-control. He lowered his face to hers slowly, giving her time to back up, but instead she tilted hers up and closed her eyes. He breathed her name against her lips, then closed the gap between them.

Rose's lips were parted slightly, and James fitted his over them, keeping the caress light until she indicated she wanted something more. He dropped three gentle kisses on her mouth, then shifted and pressed his forehead to hers. The intimacy of their breath mingling affected him more than their kisses had, and he had to swallow a moan.

When she sighed and whispered his name, he tilted his head and bumped her nose with his. Rose smiled and turned her face toward him, and James pressed a firm kiss to her lips. The hand resting in the small of her back tugged her closer, and soon there barely a centimetre of space between them. With every inhalation, Rose's chest brushed against his, and he had to fight the instinct to move a hand up to stroke her breasts.

Instead, he traced his tongue over the seam of her lips. Her mouth opened without any more hints from him, and he slipped his tongue inside, stroking it along hers and licking at the roof of her mouth.

The hand that had been cupping the back his neck moved up into his hair. The feeling of her tugging at his hair and scraping her nails over his scalp drew a loud moan from James, and he felt his restraint slipping away. If he wanted to return Rose to the ballroom without it being obvious what they'd been doing, he needed to stop kissing her now.

When James broke the kiss, Rose protested with a soft whimper. "I know," he said, surprised by the huskiness in his voice. "But there's an established order to things. Sweet words and passionate kisses given in the moonlight aren't the proper way to court a lady."

Attuned with her as he was, James felt her breath hitch. "Are you courting me?" she whispered.

Nervousness shot through him. Maybe Rose would prefer the Doctor—the daring pirate over the boring but clever nobleman. "I am if you would like me to," he said, giving her the choice.

She nibbled on her bottom lip, and James nearly groaned out loud. Did she realise how much of a temptation she was, or was it all simply… natural?

"That depends," she said coyly, and he had to think for a second to remember what they were talking about. "If I say yes, how long will I have to wait for you to kiss me again, according to your established order?"

James chuckled. "Cheeky minx. I'll come talk to your father before I leave, and assuming he approves, I'll give you a goodbye kiss."

oOoOoOoOo

Somehow, they managed to slip back into the ballroom without anyone noticing. James bowed before Rose, and as he pressed a kiss to her hand, he whispered that he would be leaving the ball soon.

Rose wished she could leave as well—or better yet, that she could leave with James—but the governor's family couldn't be among the first to leave a ball. Instead, she danced with four more men, plastering a smile on her face when they stepped on her feet and pretending to be interested in all the boring things women were supposed to talk about.

Finally, her mum signalled that they were ready to go, and a real smile crossed Rose's face. A footman brought out their wraps while their carriage was brought around, and then they were on their way home.

Rose maintained her proper demeanour until Sally had loosened all the ties on her dress and stays and pulled the pins out of her hair. She dismissed her lady's maid then and peeled her layers off herself, wrapping a dressing gown around herself after she'd stripped down to her chemise.

Through her windows, she could see the moon shining over the water. Unable to resist, she slipped out onto the balcony and stared out at it.

"_Sweet words and passionate kisses given in the moonlight…" _

Something about the phrase niggled at her, and she closed her eyes, trying to figure out what it was. Pulling up the memory, she listened to him again, and a moment later, she sucked in a breath.

James' accent was, for the most part, a perfect upper class Gallifreyan accent, but every once in a while, his lifetime in the Constellation slipped through, creating a unique accent that mashed the two into one. His inflection in the word moon was one such word.

She'd heard it before, though. She'd heard it from the Doctor.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN:** Happy Talk Like a Pirate Day! In every one of my stories, there comes a point when it becomes obvious that I am a romance novelist by trade. We're at that point now.

Rose swayed on her feet and grabbed onto the balustrade to keep herself from falling over in her shock. Could James possibly be the Doctor?

_The Doctor said he grew up in the Constellation, and that the Daleks burned his home down, along with most of the island, at the beginning of the war. _She paced the balcony, her arms wrapped around her waist. That matched James' story about the destruction of his family home on Cadon almost exactly.

Another thought occurred to Rose, and she groaned. In that same conversation about the Doctor's past, he had said he'd chosen blue sails for the Tardis because it matched the colour of his family crest. At the time, she'd focused on the past tense verb, wanting to understand the source of the sorrow she sensed in him.

_But really, Rose? You couldn't figure out from that comment that the Doctor must be a nobleman?_

And why did he wear a mask? Pirates didn't usually care about protecting their identities, so clearly the Doctor was keeping something a secret.

The mask made it difficult to compare their appearance, but they were the same height and build. _And their hands feel the same in mine._

Rose collapsed back into the chair, heedless of the fact that it was still slightly damp from the rains. And if they were the same person, that would explain why the Doctor had reacted so strangely when she'd denied a friendship with James, and why James had been so distant at the ball.

She smirked a little at the ridiculousness of James being jealous of himself. Then she started planning how she would tell the man she was falling in love with that she loved all of who he was.

oOoOoOoOo

The next morning after breakfast, Rose joined her mother in the small salon. Jackie had fully embraced the life of a lady of leisure and was working on her embroidery, while Rose continued in her attempts to paint the storms that had caught hold of her imagination.

"Did you enjoy your dance with Lord McCrimmon last night?"

Rose paused with her brush hovering an inch from the canvas and looked at her mother. Jackie's gaze was fixed on her stitching, but Rose doubts she was truly focused on it.

"Of course," she said airily, continuing to add shadows to the waves' deep troughs. "He is a superlative dancer."

"So were you dancing the whole time you were out in the gardens?"

Rose's brush slipped, leaving a wide streak of dark green across the waves. "Bollocks!" she muttered, staring at the ruined painting.

"Rose Tyler, watch your language!"

"I've heard you say worse." Rose set her brush down and stepped back to evaluate the damage.

"Well, but I'm not trying to catch the attention of a nobleman, am I? A lady should always…"

Footsteps coming toward them caught Lady Tyler's attention, and she abandoned her sentence in favour of watching the hallway through the open doorway.

James glanced into the room as the butler led him by, and Rose returned the smile he gave her.

"So, how did that dance go?"

Rose rolled her eyes at the amusement in her mother's voice, then turned to face her, hoping her cheeks weren't as red as they felt. "Well enough."

Jackie snorted. "Better than that, if he's come to talk to your father." She looked Rose up and down, then shook her head. "Go upstairs and take off that frock—it's covered in paint."

Her mother's new obsession with appearances confounded Rose, but she couldn't argue with this dictate. After dropping her brush in water to make sure paint didn't dry into the bristles, Rose hurried out of the room. With Sally's help, she was cleaned up and back downstairs in only ten minutes.

"Mum," Rose said as she sat down on the settee opposite Jackie, "why are you so keen on matching me with Lord McCrimmon?"

"I didn't think you minded."

"I don't! But you've pushed him at me from the day I met him." Rose rearranged her skirts. "I'm just curious."

Jackie sighed and set down her stitching. "I just want you to make a good match, Rose. Lord McCrimmon is the youngest unmarried nobleman around, and your father trusts him. He's a good, respectable man."

Rose was seized by a wild urge to laugh. If only her mother knew about James' other life! Thankfully, her father chose that moment to lead James into the room, distracting her mother long enough for Rose to conceal her laughter in a quiet cough.

"Jacks," Pete said, "you know Lord McCrimmon. James here has something he wants to discuss with Rose." Rose's father looked at her, then at James. "Why don't we leave them alone?"

James blinked at the suggestion, and he was even more surprised when Pete closed the door firmly behind them. Couples weren't often left alone together without a chaperone, but if Lord Tyler chose to defy convention in this manner, he certainly wasn't going to argue.

"Please sit down, my lord," Rose said, her tongue peeking out of the corner of her mouth. "I hear you have something you wish to discuss with me."

James made a quick decision and sat beside her, instead of taking the spot Lady Tyler had just vacated. "Do you know how much I love your smile?" he said conversationally, purposely ignoring the opening Rose had given him.

An adorable furrow creased her brow. "I don't think you've mentioned it."

"The tip of your tongue just barely peeks out of your mouth. It's teasing and a little torturous, I suppose, but I love it." He leaned toward her. "I'll think about your smile and that tongue every night I'm gone."

She raised an eyebrow in a move he was convinced was deliberately provocative. "Before I let you kiss me, was there something you wanted to say to me?"

James chuckled and took her hand. "Rose Tyler, I have come to care for you deeply. Would you do me the honour of allowing me to court you?"

"I will."

The tip of her tongue appeared again, and this time, James swooped down to capture it. Her startled gasp allowed him to slip his tongue into her mouth, and he placed a hand on the back of her neck to gently adjust the angle of the kiss.

Rose's tongue met his, tentatively at first, but with growing confidence. When the tip of it flicked over his bottom lip, James eased back enough to allow her to suck it into her mouth.

Kissing while sitting side by side on a settee was not the most comfortable position, and when James tugged at Rose's waist, she went willingly into his lap. He took advantage of their new closeness to drop his lips to her clavicle and suck lightly, but when Rose sank her hand into his hair and tugged, he pulled back with a pop and groaned loudly.

Rose smiled like a cat who got the cream. James watched through half-lidded eyes as she lowered her mouth to his Adam's apple, licking the spot first before sucking at it. He pressed his lips together to contain another groan, but he couldn't hold back a hiss of pleasure when her teeth grazed it.

A shiver ran trough him when she pulled back and dropped a line of soft kisses up his jaw. She scraped her nails over his scalp, and James bucked his hips helplessly in response. Rose moved her lips next to his ear and whispered, "Your hair is gorgeous. I can't tell you how many times I've dreamed about running my fingers through it."

The thought that she'd imagined touching him in any way at all sent a bolt of desire through James, and he moved his own hand into her hair and pulled her lips back to his for a searing kiss. This time, Rose's tongue met his stroke for stroke, control of the kiss shifting easily between them.

When James realised he was considering the best position for making love to Rose on the narrow settee, he sighed and gentled the kiss. The little whimper in the back of her throat nearly destroyed his resolve, but he managed to pull back.

The glazed passion in her eyes sparked a deep feeling of pride in James. She blinked a few times, then a coy smile spread across her face.

"I suppose we have once again reached the end of the established order of things."

James laughed and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. "That we have," he agreed. He loosened his grip around her waist and let her shift off of his lap, then he stood up.

"I wish I could stay with you for the afternoon, but regretfully, I need to go home and finish making preparations for my journey."

Rose nodded and stood up. "I'll see you to the door."

They walked to the door in comfortable silence, their hands swinging between them. James didn't know who had taken whose hand, but the gesture was as natural as breathing.

When they reached the door, he turned to look down at her. "Until we meet again, Lady Rose," he said. Then he brought her hand up and brushed his lips over it.

"I didn't think it would be this difficult to say goodbye."

Her words tugged at his heart, but he tamped down the impulse to tell Jack he wasn't coming, to retire from piracy and just stay here with Rose. Aware that lingering was only making things more difficult, he opened the door and stepped outside.

Rose cast an appraising look at the sky. "Such a beautiful day after all those storms," she said. "I imagine tonight would be a wonderful night for a walk."

James blinked and stiffened slightly, but otherwise kept his surprise hidden. "You told us at dinner last week that you don't walk unprotected."

She looked at him then, smiling the smile he loved. "Oh, I don't."

oOoOoOoOo

Rose was fairly certain James would be waiting for her at the base of the cliff, but it was still a relief to see his familiar figure when she turned the last corner on the path. She stopped for a moment to admire the way the damp black cotton shirt clung to his chest, then descended the remaining twenty feet to the beach.

"I'm glad to see you this evening, Rose," he said as he took her hand. The tide was out, leaving them a wide stretch of hard sand to walk on.

"Well, I wasn't sure you would still be on Arcadia," she lied, "but I couldn't things go the way they ended last time."

The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous tic she recognised from James. "And I'm grateful for the chance to apologise," he said. "There's no excuse for my rudeness."

Rose laced her fingers through his and they started walking. It was tempting to make him sweat a little longer, or try to pry an explanation from him, but she wasn't ready yet to tell him she knew who he was, and he couldn't explain without giving that away.

"I forgive you." His fingers flexed slightly around hers. "And, as it happens, you were right about Lord McCrimmon. He spoke with my father today about courting me." Rose cast him a sideways glance. "I knew you were right the other day too, but I'm unaccustomed to talking about such things with… well, with anyone, really."

"Really?" he asked, and she could imagine his eyebrow lifting to match the teasing tone of his voice. "I thought women loved to discuss men and their relationships."

"I've never had the kind of female friends that I could share these kind of secrets with," Rose said quietly. "On Powell Isle, I had a few friends, but no relationships to speak of. In the Citadel, I had neither."

James seemed to catch onto her unwillingness to discuss her time in the Citadel, and they walked in silence for a few minutes.

A warm breeze blew over them, and Rose breathed deeply of the sea air. "I will miss these walks when you're gone."

"Does that mean you will promise me not to walk alone?"

Rose heaved a sigh. "Since everyone seems to share your opinion that the beach is a dangerous place after dark, I can't see that I have a choice." She looked up at him. "You must hurry back, so I am not confined to the mansion for the rest of my days."

He tipped his head back and laughed, and the expanse of his neck transfixed Rose. If there were enough light, she knew she'd be able to see the mark she'd left over his Adam's apple that afternoon.

"On my honour, Lady Rose, I will dispatch with my pillaging duties as quickly as possible so I may hurry back to your side."

She couldn't help it. She really couldn't. The words were so James.

"I love you," she breathed.

James looked down at Rose in dismay. Why was she telling the Doctor she loved him, when earlier that day she'd given James permission to court her, and had kissed him so passionately?

_It must be the romance of the setting,_ he told himself. _A moonlit walk along the beach… she's just gotten carried away._

He pulled his hand away from hers, though he hated to do it. "Rose, you don't know what you're saying," he told her gently. "I know we've become friends, but Lord McCrimmon is courting you. Surely, if there's any man you're in love with, it's him."

Rose squinted up at him, her lips twisted into a smirk. She took both of his hands and wouldn't let him pull back. "That's what I said," she said. "I love you."

James actually felt his mind slow down as he tried to process what Rose was saying. She couldn't possibly know… but she seemed to be saying… and the look on her face, like she thought he was being particularly daft…

She was clearly waiting for him to say something, but eventually her patience ran out. She pushed herself up on her toes and whispered in his ear. "I know who you are."

"How?"

She dropped back to the beach and looked up at him. "Well, for one thing," she said tartly, "you both told me you're leaving Arcadia."

James frowned. "That was enough?"

The wind played with a strand of Rose's hair, and she let go of one of his hands to brush it back over her ear. "There were so many similarities between you, once I knew to look, but that certainly supported my suspicion."

"But—"

She sighed. "Does it matter how I figured it out? Isn't it enough that I know?"

Unease settle in the pit of James' stomach. "Oh, this is bad." He dropped Rose's hand and started walking back toward the cliff path. "It was selfish, asking if I could court you."

"Why?"

He spun around and gaped at her. "What do you mean, why?" he squawked. "I'm a pirate, Rose. My life is dangerous."

Rose crossed her arms over her chest. "As far as I can tell, it didn't become more dangerous just because I figured out the full truth." She lowered her chin and stared at him. "Did it?"

"No, of course not."

"Then why is it suddenly an issue, when it wasn't before?"

James shoved his hands through his damp hair. "You deserve better than someone who spends half his life evading the Gallifreyan Navy and playing hide and seek with the Daleks."

"I don't want better." Rose paused and shook her head. "There isn't a better man than you."

"But how can you love the Doctor? He's a pirate."

Rose crossed the distance between them and held his face between her hands. "He's you."

Her warm, brown eyes held only understanding and love. This wasn't wilful denial on her part, or the words of a jaded noblewoman enjoying the novelty of a pirate lover. James finally accepted the extraordinary gift of this woman—clever enough to figure out his secret on her own, and brave enough to love him even though he was a pirate.

He pulled her into his arms and trailed a line of kisses along her jaw toward her neck. "You shouldn't have come here tonight, sweetheart," he said huskily.

Rose sighed, and her head dropped back, revealing her creamy white throat to him. "Why? Because you're a pirate and loving you is dangerous?"

"No." James sucked lightly at her pulse point and smiled when that drew a choked moan from Rose. "Because I barely kept myself from ravishing you this afternoon, even knowing your parents were in the mansion." He sucked harder and grazed the growing love bite with his teeth. "How do you expect me to have any sort of restraint when we're alone on a dark beach?"

Rose turned her head, placing her lips beside his ear. "Because," she whispered, drawing a shudder from James when her hot breath blew over his sensitive skin, "you won't make love to me for the first time on the wet sand."

She sucked lightly on his earlobe, and James groaned, both at the sensation, and because he knew she was right. He didn't have many set ideas about their first time, but he was determined they would be comfortable, because he was going to take his time.

He sank his hand into the silky tresses of her hair and turned her head so his lips could meet hers. Rose wrapped an arm around his waist and shifted to get as close to him as possible, and he barely resisted the urge to grab her hips and grind into her so she could feel exactly what she did to him.

Just before his restraint broke, he ended the kiss, staring down at the gorgeous woman he held. She grazed her thumb over his lips, and he pressed a kiss to it.

"I love you," she said again.

The words struck James as they hadn't before, now that he knew they were truly for him. "Quite right," he said, grinning cheekily at her when she glared up at him.

But when he detected a hint of uncertainty in her eyes, he cupped her jaw tenderly in his left hand, loving the way she leaned into the caress. "And I love you, Rose Tyler."

A knot of warmth expanded in Rose's chest, making it hard to breath. She threw her arms around his neck, and James chuckled and wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her tight.

"I wish there was some way we could write one another while you're gone," she whispered.

He took a half step back and tugged at his ear. "Well… There isn't a way for you to write James McCrimmon in Gallifrey—"

"Largely because you aren't going to Gallifrey," Rose pointed out.

"But you could write to the Doctor, if you want." She nodded quickly, and he said, "There's a tavern down by the docks that Jack and I use to pass messages back and forth. Talk to Wilf and Donna at the Wolf and the Storm, and tell them I sent you." James fumbled for something in his pocket, then pressed a cold ring into her hand. "Show them this, so they know you're telling the truth."

They stood in the moonlight looking at each other for several minutes, then James said, "I didn't think it would be this difficult to say goodbye."

Rose smiled and repeated his own words back to him. "Until we meet again, James McCrimmon." Then she turned and walked back up the cliff path.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: **Sorry about the delay on this-I've been working on it since September, but I kept running into projects with deadlines. The Master's part in the plot shows up in this chapter.

Two men stole quietly down the Arcadian beach, the quarter moon providing just enough light for them to see by. The dinghy waited for them in a tiny cove, like always, and Captain James McCrimmon and his loyal crewman, Mickey Smith, pushed it out into the shallows and jumped in.

James unfurled the single sail once they were away from land and quietly piloted the boat toward the nearby atoll. The Tardis was waiting for them there in the lagoon.

"Man the rudder," he ordered Mickey after a few minutes, and they carefully traded places. The thing about steering a boat was that you had to look where you were going, and for once, James was more interested in what he was leaving behind.

He crouched in the stern, watching Arcadia grow smaller as he sailed away. Had he really stood on that beach with Rose in his arms just three hours ago? She had clung to him with a sweetness that made the passion in her kisses that much more intoxicating, and leaving her untouched had been a challenge, despite his plans for a bed.

And now he was sailing away from her, not to return for possibly as much as six months. Things in the Constellation had only gotten worse since he'd left the Tardis, and he had to do what he could to help, even if he wished he could stay at home with the woman he loved.

Arcadia disappeared on the horizon, but he kept watching. Did he really want that? A normal life, with a home and a family with his love? He'd given up on domestics the moment he'd watched his family home burn down, but Rose made him long for them again. Maybe it was time to see if he could blend the two parts of his life more smoothly.

oOoOoOoOo

Rose clutched the ring that hung around her neck in a fist as she hurried through the area near the docks. She wore her oldest dress, but even covered in paint splatters, it was obviously worth more than the people here made in a month.

Thankfully, she found The Wolf and the Storm without difficulty. A ginger woman looked up from the bar when she walked in and snorted at the sight of her.

"I think you're in the wrong place, Blondie."

"Are you Donna?" Rose asked.

The woman's gaze sharpened. "You're Lady Rose."

Rose nodded and showed her the ring.

Donna looked down, then smiled at Rose. "Come on, Gramps is upstairs. He's been dying to meet you ever since that skinny pirate came by with a letter this morning before he sailed."

"He's gone then?" Rose asked, a hollow ache lodging in her heart. Even though they'd said goodbye—twice—she'd hoped to see him again before he left.

"Oh, Lord," Donna groaned as she led the way upstairs. "You're as bad as he is. I really didn't think that was possible."

"So… James told you about me?" Rose asked hesitantly.

Donna pushed a door open, revealing a well-kept lounge and an older man sitting by the fire. "He wouldn't shut up about you," she said.

"Donna, be polite to our guest." The man stood. "You must be Lady Rose. Go ahead; sit down."

Rose looked at the two of them. " I wasn't planning to stay… I thought I'd just give you this and go back home before anyone wonders where I am."

"Oh, I won't keep you long," he said, pulling her toward a chair. "But I have to admit, I'm very interested to learn more about the lady who could enchant James in such a short time."

Rose shrugged uncomfortably. "I'm nothing special," she said. "You must know my story."

They both nodded. "But Gramps is right," Donna said. "That idiot is completely besotted with you. What I want to know, though, is what you see in a skinny streak of nothing like him."

Rose flushed, remembering how it had felt to be held by that skinny body. "He's actually got a lot of muscle," she said. "And really great hair." She coughed and shook her head. "He didn't treat me like glass. He talked to me about things that matter."

"Oh ho!" Wilf crowed. "And now we know why James fell for you. You're the first lady who's cared about more than your own life. He needs someone who can see the big picture, who will care as much as he does—who will sometimes remind him of why he cares."

The old man levelled a gaze at Rose. "You know he won't give up running the blockade until the war is over."

"I wouldn't ask him to!" Rose said indignantly. "I am hopeful… It would be nice if I could find a way to get my father to grant him a letter of marque, so he doesn't have to sail under a black flag."

Wilf smiled gently. "James gave up on that long ago. I can already tell you're going to be good for him."

Rose looked at her odd hosts. She had so many questions—how did they know James, what was their role in his life currently—but she'd been honest when she'd said she couldn't stay long.

She pulled the letter out of her reticule. "Here is the letter I wrote this morning. I'll come every Monday afternoon with one, if that works for you."

Wilf picked a folded piece of paper up off the mantle. "I think that would be fine."

oOoOoOoOo

Getting home was easier than coming had been. It was the lull between when the local day workers swarmed the docks, and the sailors came ashore to the taverns, and no one noticed the governor's daughter slipping through the streets toward the mansion.

Safe in her room, Rose pulled the letter out of her reticule with shaking hands. The seal in the wax wasn't one she recognised—a stylised figure eight embellished with swirls, set inside a circle. She traced the strange design, then slid her finger under the flap and broke the seal.

James' handwriting was a cross between a hurried scrawl and precise lettering. It fit her bold and dashing suitor.

_Dear Rose,_

_It's only been an hour since we said goodbye, and here I sit, writing to you already. But I spotted the signal from my ship, and I know I'll be leaving Arcadia before two hours pass—which gives me just enough time to get this letter to Wilf. _

_Do you remember my promise in the garden last night that I would look at the stars and think about dancing with you? You reminded me that the stars in Gallifrey are different, but now you know I'll still be here. I promise, sweetheart—every night I'll look at the stars and wish you were in my arms._

_Love,_

_Your Doctor_

Rose paused on his signature. _My Doctor, _she thought. It seemed so right, thinking of him in the possessive like that.

After reading and re-reading, Rose folded the letter up and tucked it away in the writing desk she had brought home from Gallifrey. The slanted lid on the lap-sized box had a lock. Much as she hated the thought, she knew she couldn't leave this out where anyone could find it. It wouldn't take much for the curious mind to leap from, "Lady Rose is getting letters from one man while courting another," to the possibility that the two men were in fact one and the same.

She traded James' letter out for a sheet of fresh paper and dipped her pen in the ink.

_My Doctor…_

oOoOoOoOo

James finished reading the last of Jack's logs and leaned back in his chair. As always, his first mate had done an exceptional job of captaining the crew and keeping the ship out of the way of the Gallifreyan Navy. James ran a hand through his hair and wondered for the first time if he was even needed at all.

A sharp knock pulled him from his thoughts. "Enter!"

Jack walked in, a smirk on his face and a bottle of rum in his hand. " I figured you'd be ready for a drink when you were done reading."

"Your timing is impeccable, as always." James found two glasses on the sidebar and Jack poured. "So, is there anything you didn't mention in the log?"

"Nah," Jack said. "It's more of the same, really. The Daleks taking more territory, the Navy not being able to stop them, and the Master sailing around like an annoying fly who won't sit still long enough for you to swat him."

James drank some of his rum, then ran his tongue over his teeth in appreciation of the smooth liquor. Jack continued to share some of the things Koschei had done in the last six months, but James tuned him out. His old friend would never change, it seemed, and frankly, the story grew old.

He watched the light refract through the rum, and the colour reminded him of Rose's eyes—rich and warm, with flecks of gold. His gaze strayed to the folded piece of parchment where he'd begun a new letter.

"But why do I think you're not the least bit interested in anything the Master has been doing?" Jack said.

James looked up at him, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry, Jack," he said. "But well, it's always the same old thing, isn't it? Hard to be interested in a story I've heard a dozen times before."

Jack cocked his head and looked at him. "Is that all it is, Doctor?" he said, and the sly note in his voice made James a little uneasy. "You weren't, perhaps, more interested in this?"

Jack grabbed the unfinished letter to Rose before James realised what he was planning. "Oi! Give that here," he ordered, trying to snatch it out of his first mate's hands. Jack laughed and jumped out of his chair, dancing back from the table.

"Well, what do we have here?" he said, quickly unfolding the paper and scanning the contents. "Dear Rose—it's only been two days and I miss you already, sweetheart…" Jack held the letter to his chest and looked at James, a impish smile on his face. "Why Doctor, are you writing a love letter?"

"Jack, stoppit," James ordered, but without any real heat in his words. He could force his friend to hand over the letter, but experience told him it would be better to let him get all his teasing out at once, lest it come out at a less opportune moment.

Jack grinned unrepentantly and continued scanning the letter, which James was relieved to remember contained none of the passionate reminisces he'd been tempted to include. Perhaps a mention of—

"Kisses under the moonlight?" Jack peered up at him. "You've become a true romantic, Doctor."

James finally took the letter back, knowing Jack had gotten to the end. "Not really," he said.

"So… who's this Rose who's captured your heart?" Jack sat back down and leaned back in his chair.

James slumped into his chair, knowing he wasn't going to get out of this interrogation. "Rose Tyler."

There was a thud as Jack's chair tottered back onto all four legs. "Rose Tyler? _Lady _Rose Tyler, the governor's daughter?"

"Yes."

Jack whistled. "Well, I suppose there aren't many other young ladies of equal rank to you in the Constellation, but damn, Jamie, you sure know how to jump straight into danger. It's one thing to visit with the governor and his family on a social level, but unless I'm misreading that letter, you've almost as good as proposed to Lady Rose."

James tapped the letter against the table and didn't answer.

"That's what I thought. How do you expect to keep your double life a secret from your lady wife?"

The long silence told Jack the truth. "Or did you tell her already?"

James smiled softly. "I didn't have to. She figured it out for herself. She's brilliant, Jack, and beautiful, and kind…"

Jack held up a hand. "Whoa, hold up on the description of this paragon and go back to the part where she figured out your carefully guarded secret all on her own. How could she do that when she only knew you as yourself?"

"Ah." James tugged on his ear. "Well, the Doctor met Rose on the beach more than once." His friend looked at him disapprovingly, and James held up his hands. "She was determined to walk on the beach by herself after dark! I couldn't convince her that it wasn't safe, so in the end, I decided it would be better if I joined her."

"And of course she met Lord James McCrimmon socially, and somehow you did something that made it obvious that you were the same person?"

James nodded. "I'm still not sure what truly tipped her off, but she said the fact that both the Doctor and James told her we were leaving Arcadia confirmed her suspicions."

Jack groaned. "I always wondered when someone would start to realise you only appeared when James wasn't on Arcadia. I mean, our ploy of me running things on the Tardis while you're away was only going to work for so long, until people realised that despite seeing the ship, they hadn't seen you." He paused and looked up at the ceiling. "I'm surprised the Master has never done anything about it, actually, considering he knows."

"Oh, he enjoys our little games too much to give me up. If I were captured, we couldn't keep meeting one on one."

Jack nodded absently. "That doesn't solve my largest concern though. Your Lady Rose—can you trust her to keep your secret?"

James bristled. "Rose would never betray me."

"That's not what I meant," Jack said. "I mean, will she be able to pretend she doesn't know who you are? You're apparently writing each other, which I'm not convinced is a good idea. What if someone finds your letters to her? It wouldn't be difficult to put two and two together and realise that if Lady Rose is betrothed to James McCrimmon and writing the Doctor, they might be the same person. As she's proven, once the idea enters your head, it's too obvious to ignore."

James smiled. "I told you, Jack, Rose is brilliant. If anyone can keep the pretence up, it's her."

oOoOoOoOo

In the time that James had been in Arcadia, the crew of the Tardis had filled the hold with plunder to be taken to the islands in Dalek territory. As always, traveling across the blockade was an exhilarating act of daring. The Dalek fleet was far from idle, and while some blockades were merely a threat of violence, the lords of Skaro had proven to be a more formidable foe.

The trip into Dalek controlled territory went as smoothly as they ever did. It took the Doctor and the Tardis a week to distribute their cargo to the various colonies, and they were greeted enthusiastically wherever they went.

Perhaps too enthusiastically. The excitement that always bubbled up when they were delivering supplies spread throughout the region, and it was no surprise to James when they met with a great deal more resistance on their way back to Gallifreyan territory than they had on their arrival.

The Tardis was faster and more agile than the top of the line Dalek cruiser, but even still, they narrowly avoided engagement. As they sailed over the invisible line back into Gallifreyan waters, the Doctor could hear the Daleks shouting, "Exterminate!"

(He'd always privately wondered why they didn't just say, "Yer walkin' the plank!" like any self-respecting sea dog, but in the grand scheme of things, that hardly mattered.)

On their first night on the Gallifreyan side of the blockade, Jack joined James in the captain's cabin. "Here's to a successful trip," he said, waving a bottle of rum in the air.

James chuckled and slammed two glasses down on the table. "By all means, pour, my good friend. You can drink to a successful trip, and I'll drink to making it safely back home."

Jack tossed back his first drink. "Oh, you're thinking about Lady Rose again, aren't you?" he moaned as he refilled his glass. "I can always tell when you're thinking about your lovely lady by the dreamy tone in your voice."

James shrugged as he slipped slowly at his drink. "I might have been," he admitted. "I think Arcadia should be our first stop, now that we're in safe waters again."

"And that desire has nothing to do with the hope that your lady has left letters for you in the three weeks you've been away."

"That's… possible," James drawled, leaning back in his chair.

Jack shook his head. "You know, I thought for the longest time that you really didn't have any desire for a wife and a home."

James leaned his elbows on the table and rested his chin in his hand. "It's had to imagine having a family again when you've lost one," he said quietly. Jack nodded. "And I don't know how… I don't know what…" He blew out a breath. "Rose makes me believe I deserve a normal life," he said finally.

A slow smile spread across Jack's face. "Well, in that case, let's set course for Arcadia."

oOoOoOoOo

One morning three weeks after James' departure from Arcadia, a messenger arrived at the governor's mansion with a thick envelope for Rose. By some lucky coincidence, her mother was out of the house, so she was able to take the packet up to her room without any question.

When she opened the envelope, a single letter several pages long fell out onto her lap. She broke the familiar seal and unfolded the letter, smoothing the creases out so she could read it more easily.

_Dear Rose,_

_It's only been two days, and I miss you already, sweetheart. I miss our walks and the conversation we shared, and the way you would laugh at me when I said or did something ridiculous. And oh, the sound of your laughter… I miss hearing it and knowing that I'm the one who's made you so happy._

_That's not to say there aren't things I'm enjoying about being back onboard the Tardis. This ship has been my true home for so many years; coming back to it always feels right. I sleep better with the gentle roll of the waves rocking me to sleep and the salt air coming in through the open porthole in my cabin. Even the hard physical labour of life at sea is welcome after spending months as a pampered lord._

_But when I stand on the forecastle after dark with my hand on the wheel and look at the waning moon, none of those things can compare to kissing you in the moonlight. _

There was a break in the writing, where he'd set the letter aside for a while before coming back to it. The ink changed colour when the letter picked up again.

_The last week has been different from every other time I've returned to the Tardis after being on land for a while. I'd pretend I don't know why, but that would be a lie. _

_For the first time since I took to the sea eight years ago, there is someplace else I'd rather be. It's not an easily defined place, because it is simply wherever you are._

_Jack just read that paragraph over my shoulder and is laughing at my attempt at poetic language. Have I told you about Jack? He's my first mate, and an excellent sailor. He's also an enormous flirt, so I don't know that I'll ever introduce you, even if he is my best friend._

_(He just read that too, and promises he won't attempt to seduce you. We'll see. I do trust Jack Harkness with my life…)_

Here there was another break, and the first line back made Rose giggle.

_I've ordered Jack to take the wheel. Now I can write without him peering over my shoulder. _

_Do you know what I find myself regretting? My own determination to cling to the established order of things. My mind knows it was the right choice, the prudent choice, but when I'm alone in my bed at night, I wish I hadn't been quite so prudent._

Rose's face was warm, and she knew her cheeks were red after reading that oblique expression of how much he wanted her. She knew well enough that this was not the kind of thing a gentleman would be allowed to write to his lady, and she was suddenly glad James was a pirate for yet another reason.

It took Rose an hour to read the letter the whole way through. Even if he hadn't signed it, she still would have known who it was from—no one rambled like James.

When she was done, she carefully folded it back up and set it in the writing desk along with the first letter. Then she picked up her own pen and went back to her own letter, almost ready to take to Wilf and Donna.

oOoOoOoOo

James was somewhat surprised when Jack left him alone after he returned from his visit to The Wolf and the Storm. It was what he wanted, of course—time alone to read Rose's letters—but his first mate wasn't usually one to miss a chance to take the Mickey out. Choosing not to question his unexpected blessing, he broke the seal on the top letter.

A lump lodged in his throat when he read her greeting. _My Doctor._ That was how he'd signed his first letter to her, as well as the one he'd just left for her. Seeing the words in her hand was better than any endearment. It had been so long since he'd belonged to anyone, and this lovely creature claimed him as hers.

_You've been gone for two weeks now, and I'm growing weary from the effort to pretend to be the perfect lady everyone expects me to be. In most conversation, I dare not show an interest in politics, or the war, or anything that actually matters. _

_Doctor, you're the only one who has ever accepted all of who I am—including the lady who would fall in love with a pirate. Mrs. Chesterton and I have become good friends, and she is one of the few ladies I have met who is willing to show she has a brain. But even Barbara would not approve of our relationship, I fear… _

_I miss you, because when I'm with you I can be more myself. You don't expect me to be something I am not. You're even proud of who I am._

_I don't know if this is making any sense, but I needed to try to explain the loneliness that I feel creeping over me. I've been lonely before, but then I didn't know anything different. Now I'm used to companionship, and you're gone._

James read all three letters Rose had left for him, then re-read them in chronological order. Though he could hardly believe it, she seemed to share the same joyful wonder at finding someone who could truly love her as he felt. Reading those same sentiments in her hand deepened his longing for a regular life, and he lay awake that night, trying to work out a way he could retire, at least partially, from life as the Doctor.

Those happy dreams didn't last long. Only a week after James picked up Rose's letters, he ran into a familiar face as he returned to the Tardis following a raid.

"Well hello, _Doctor,_" Koschei drawled as they stared at each other from opposite ends of the beach.

"If it isn't the dread pirate Koschei," James returned, refusing to use his old friend's chosen title. The skin around Koschei's mouth tightened, and James hid his smirk. It was always so easy to get a rise out of him.

"I hear you've been trying to have a normal life again," Koschei said a moment later, striking a casual pose. "The destruction of one family wasn't enough for you?"

James only had a split second to decide how to react to Koschei's obvious taunt. "The destruction of Cadon had nothing to do with either of us, Koschei."

His old friend smirked. "Ah, deflection—always your favourite tactic, wasn't it?" action tag "The point of my comment was not to blame you for the attack on Cadon, as you know very well."

"Then what was your point, Koschei?"

"The lovely Lady Rose… I'm surprised you would risk her life by allowing her to be attached to you."

James opened and closed his mouth, trying to find something to say, something that would remove Koschei's attention from Rose. But it was a fruitless endeavour, and he knew it. The Master was one of the most dogged individuals he'd ever known.

His nemesis' smile stretched wider with each second James remained silent. "Oh, now this is a lovely surprise," he said finally. "I thought perhaps my information was inaccurate. Surely James McCrimmon, the pirate who has managed to maintain his double identity for eight years, wouldn't be so foolish as to court a lady—especially not the governor's daughter. But it appears you would."

"I fail to see how my private life is of any interest to you, Koschei," James said, trying to throw a bit of bored hauteur into his voice. "Aren't such domestic things beneath you?"

The glint in Koschei's eyes sent a chill down James' spine. "I would have though domestics would be beneath _you._" He crossed his arms. "Really, this was so careless of you—not at all like you. Because now, you see, I have the perfect bit of leverage to use against you."

That was exactly what James had dreaded as soon as he'd mentioned Rose. "Rose is not _leverage_," he spat out, not caring if he gave away how much the lady mattered to him.

"Oh, but she is," Koschei countered. "Because as long as you care about her, you will do whatever I want in order to keep her safe."

Out of the corner of his eye, James saw Jack approaching. "I would really love to stay and discuss this with you further, but as you see, it's time for me to take my leave."

oOoOoOoOo

"What were you talking about with the Master?" Jack asked once they were safely in James' cabin.

James' fists clenched and unclenched. "Rose," he ground out.

Jack's brow furrowed, then smoothed out a moment later. "He's found out about your relationship with Lady Rose and plans to use her against you."

"Precisely. And I can't think of anything I could do to stop him."

"End your romance, for one."

James paced the cabin, the activity releasing some of the nervous energy that had built up since his encounter with Koschei. "That would only prove to Koschei that I care enough about Rose for her to be valuable leverage. And he knows me well enough to know that ending our relationship would do nothing to change how I feel about her." He shoved his hands through his hair. "No, I need to do something that will finally take him out of commission. He's caused enough problems."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "In eight years, this is the first time I have ever heard you consider bringing the Master to justice, rather than simply holding him at bay."

James looked away. As the other remaining survivor of Cadon, he'd been unable to truly confront Koschei, preferring to simply manage the damage he caused. But now…

"He threatened Rose."

"Then let's come up with a plan to take care of him. And maybe, if we work things just right, we can make it possible for you to actually live a normal life with Lady Rose, rather than sailing the Constellation as a marauder."

James sat down, and Jack took the seat opposite him. "It sounds like you have some ideas."

"I do, but it's risky."

"I'm listening."

oOoOoOoOo

Jack's plan was equal parts brilliant, daring, and ridiculous. If it worked, James would be able to leave piracy behind for good. If it didn't, it could easily kill him.

But it was a risk he was willing to take, with Rose's safety on the line. First though, he had to write one more time.

He stared at the blank sheet of paper. He couldn't give her the impression that he expected to be in any more danger than he usually was. Rose was brilliant; she would piece together the truth, and part of the plan rested on her obviously believing things were as they seemed.

James dipped the quill in the ink and for the next few hours, the sound of the nib scratching against the paper filled the room. He filled the paper on both sides, then turned it and wrote cross-wise, unable to stop himself from saying all he wanted to, given that this might be the last time he talked to her.

When he was done, he scattered sand over the paper to dry the ink, then folded it and ordered Mickey to set a course for Arcadia.

When James appeared in The Wolf and the Storm after midnight the next night, Donna frowned slightly before jerking her head toward the stairs. He obeyed her silent command and went to the private residence, knocking on the door.

Wilf frowned when he opened the door. "James, lad, what are you doing here again?"

James forced a smile and hoped it didn't look as fake as it felt. "My route happened to bring me near Arcadia, and I thought, well, as long as I'm in the area, and I have a letter written, there's no reason not to stop by."

Wilf nodded slowly. "It's Monday, so your Rose was here this afternoon with another letter for you, too."

_Your Rose._ James flinched at the title. He took the letter from Wilf, along with the one Rose had left the week before, and handed his letter over. He hesitated for a moment, then said, "If she was just here, does that mean she wouldn't come by to pick that up until next Monday?"

"That's right. She comes by every Monday afternoon with a new letter for you."

James' heart clenched at this evidence of Rose's devotion. "Would it be possible to have a messenger deliver this to the governor's mansion tomorrow?" Wilf raised an eyebrow, and he hastened to explain. "I'd like to think that she wouldn't want to wait all week when she could read it today."

A smile crept over Wilf's face. "Relax, James. That's exactly what I did ten days ago when you dropped off your previous letter. Rose will have your letter tomorrow, I promise."

There were a dozen extra messages James wanted Wilf to pass along—to tell Rose to be careful, that he loved her, that he hoped when all this was done they could have their happy ending. But he swallowed them all, knowing that even one would make it clear this was not an ordinary visit.

"I appreciate it, Wilf," he said instead.

"Take care, lad," Wilf said, patting him on the back.

oOoOoOoOo

There was a part of James that wanted to put Rose's most recent letters away until Koschei was taken care of. The thought of reading more from her hand when he didn't know when (or if) he would see her again hurt.

He managed to hold out for one day, but when he woke up the next morning and the letters were still sitting on his desk, he gave into the temptation and broke the seal on the first one.

Her salutation and endearment stung this time. She might never know how much truth was in those simple words, "My Doctor."

With some effort, he pushed the fatalistic thought aside and read on. Rose's wry humour and sweetness came through in every line, and James wondered for a moment if he could really go through with Jack's plan.

James swallowed twice when he finished reading her letter and blinked hard before calling for Jack. When his friend entered his cabin, James set the letter down and looked up at him.

"I'm ready."

oOoOoOoOo

Rose was surprised to get another letter from James the next morning, but she managed to sneak away to her room to read it.

The first two pages followed a similar pattern to his first letter—newsy, humorous, and tender in equal parts. Then he must have reached his last sheet of paper, because every square inch of the third page was covered in the tiniest print, going in both directions.

_We rode through a squall yesterday, and when I looked out at the sea afterward, the grey sky with the pale yellow sun piercing the clouds reminded me of your attempts to paint the storms last month. Are you still trying? I'm sure you can capture it eventually._

_There's something about the ocean after a storm that seems more alive and mysterious. Maybe it's the mystery that makes it difficult to paint—is it calm or stormy? Grey, blue, or green? What is the light doing on the waves? It looks so different from what it's like at any other time._

_I miss you tonight, sweetheart. Well, I miss you every night, but somehow it seems… sharper tonight. I'm writing this letter, and I suddenly wonder—does she know I love her?_

_I know I've told you before, but do you truly understand how much you mean to me, Rose Tyler? For you, I would settle in a house with windows and carpets. (Provided we could take the occasional cruise in the Tardis, of course.) It wouldn't even be a sacrifice. You've made me believe a normal, domestic life is possible for me, and I stopped believing that the moment the Daleks killed my family._

_And I would do anything to keep you safe. (Which reminds me, Rose—have you kept your promise not to walk on the beach at night? Please tell me you have. There is more danger out there than you can possible imagine.)_

_Since I'll be near Arcadia tomorrow, I think I'll drop this letter off with Wilf, even though I hadn't planned to come to the island quite so soon. If my letters mean anywhere near as much to you as yours do to me, I know you'll be glad to get one earlier than you'd expected._

_Rose Tyler… I love you._

_Your Doctor_

Rose read the letter three times before putting it away, and retrieved it (along with his first two letters) every night to reread them. The last page felt slightly melancholy to her, like James was struggling to hide some kind of sadness behind the sweet words.

However, the part about her painting inspired her to pick the project up again. Truthfully, she'd abandoned her attempts to paint the storms shortly after James left Arcadia. No matter what she did, she couldn't get the light just right.

But he was right—it was the mystery that made it hard to capture, and the same mystery made her determined to succeed. To her mother's consternation, she spent hours every day standing in front of the easel. A callus built up on her middle finger from holding the paintbrush for so many hours, and a slight furrow appeared in her brow because of the intent way she stared at the canvas. Painting was a ladylike activity, but Jackie wasn't sure most ladies devoted themselves to it the way Rose seemed to.

"What would Lord McCrimmon say if he walked in this afternoon and saw you in that old frock, with a bit of paint on your nose?" she asked one day.

"He would praise me for my hard work," Rose said absently.

"Not that we have any way of knowing what his lordship would say," Jackie continued, as if Rose hadn't spoken. "Why's he not written to you, that's what I want to know."

"Mama, James only left Arcadia three months ago. You know how long the crossing the Gallifrey takes—he likely only arrived a few weeks ago. And then of course a letter would have to work it's way back across the ocean to me."

Rose dipped her brush in a lighter green and shaded the crests of the waves.

"I am certain he is writing to me."

Jackie huffed. "I don't know how you can be so certain, but I can see there's no reasoning with you."

Rose looked up and smiled at her mother. "None whatsoever," she said cheerfully. "Really, Mama. After all you did to push our relationship, would you have me become cross with him over something he can't control?"

Before Jackie could reply, a servant entered the room. "Lady Rose, your father would like to see you in his study."

Rose glanced down at her paint frock. "Please let him know I'll be there as soon as I change," she ordered, then set her brush down in the cup of water by her easel and went up to her room.

oOoOoOoOo

Rose peeked around the door to her father's study. "You wanted to talk to me, Papa?"

"Come in and close the door, Rose."

She did as she was told, a shiver of unease running through her as she sat down in the chair across the desk from him. That unease deepened when he moved around to sit beside her and took one of her hands.

"What is it? Why are you looking at me like you're trying to brace yourself to give me bad news?"

Lord Tyler's hand tightened on hers, and he didn't deny the allegation. "Rose, I've just learned that the Tardis was involved in a skirmish with the Daleks last week."

Ice lodged in Rose's heart, but the only thing she could think was that she couldn't let her father see how afraid she was. She couldn't give James' secret away.

"I hope they escaped unscathed, for the sake of the people living on the other side of the blockade," she said, proud that she'd managed to keep her voice even.

"The ship itself is fine—just some light damage. But the Doctor wasn't with her when she docked for repairs last week."

Rose was glad she was sitting down, because her knees turned to jelly at that ominous statement. "Well, hopefully—"

Her father cut off the meaningless wish she'd been about to offer.. "Rose."

The deep sympathy in his eyes shook her. "How long have you known?" she whispered.

Lord Tyler sighed. "Almost from the moment I arrived in the Constellation. The mystery of the masked pirate intrigued me, but no one seemed to know anything about the Doctor's past. When I realised how obsessed the Master was with him, it struck me that they had likely known each other for a long time. In investigating Koschei, I discovered the only other survivor of Cadon had been Lord McCrimmon."

"Do you… do you know anything about James?" Rose clutched her father's hands. "Your report, did it say anything about what the Daleks might have done to him?"

He withdrew his hands and leaned back in his chair. "The assumption is that he's been taken prisoner. And unfortunately, given that he's a pirate, I can't use any of our official channels to attempt to secure his release."

Rose nodded slowly. "So he's at the mercy of the Daleks until… until the war ends, or until they kill him."


End file.
